


Pick You Up

by astralComedics



Series: Different Lives [7]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralComedics/pseuds/astralComedics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I see you over there standing at the counter talking all the time! Are you flirting with a pretty girl again?”<br/>AU Prompt: I'm a worker at a beach side ice cream shop and you're a really hot surfer who keeps coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick You Up

The job front was an area Wash never had a lot of success with. All though Wash never had a lot of luck overall, he was especially feeling the pain of not being able to land so much as an interview. He never could tell what it was about him that turned him away from potential employers. His sister Carolina said it was the way his eyes looked, like he was done trying. She told him that looking bright and happy was important with any job, largely when working jobs that had you deal with people. Wash told her he didn't want to deal with people. _And that's your problem,_ was what she told him.

Carolina was however not completely heartless. She offered him a job at the place she was working. It wasn't anything fancy, just serving ice cream to beach goers while you boiled in the sweltering heat. Since Carolina was good friends with the person who ran the little beach side shop, she told Wash she could probably get him a job without even having to go through an interview. 

“Don't worry, this guy trusts me,” Carolina said with conviction. “If I say you're good for this, then he'll believe you're good for this. When you get there, you just gotta sell it. Try smiling.”

Though not ideal Wash took what he could get. Especially if he didn't have to go through the pain of an interview. Smiling was easy anyway, even if it wasn't genuine. People were easy to fool, it was just not something Wash made a habit of doing.

It was a while, but Carolina did pull through for her brother. Not surprising with her level of dependability. Wash thanked her after she told him he could expect a call from the guy within the week. Sure enough a couple days later his phone was ringing.

“You start Monday.” the words sounded in his ear. _Monday..._

Wash hated Mondays. Not for any reason in particular, he just hated them.

Nonetheless, come time Monday and Wash was standing behind the register of the shop, watching people run around on the hot sand and forcing a smile as he served up ice cream. The beach the shop was located at didn't get a lot of traffic, but there were enough people coming for a cold, refreshing treat that Wash spent most of his time occupied. When he wasn't serving customers he was admiring them from afar. At least the male ones. Though not outwardly Wash had quite the appreciation for the male form. Carolina knew of course and would often times tease him whenever a particularly stunning man came around.

“So, you like that one huh?” she would nudge him.

“You say that at almost every male that I serve.”

“That's cause I see you staring at almost every male you serve.”

“I don't stare,” Wash insisted. 

Carolina would always smile and roll her eyes. “Whatever you say.”

It was a few weeks into Wash's job when he first started to notice him; a gorgeous young surfer looking to be in his mid twenties. He always had a smile on his face, though the emotion ranged from happy to sly. Wash substantially liked his hair; thin dreadlocks pulled back into a pony tail. They coupled nicely with his dark skin.

Every time the man came around for ice cream Wash would remember his face more and more. After a while it just stuck with him, like listening to a song on repeat and remembering the lyrics. You don't even realize you're doing it before you've already done it. He found himself increasingly admiring the man's features with every encounter. They were delicate, giving him a pretty boy feel. Wash usually liked the more rugged ones, but there was something about the man's beaming smile. It reeled him in and for a moment would make him forget how dull he felt inside. He had never felt so strongly towards an attractive stranger before, and he had met a lot of attractive strangers. He was confused as to why this one was so different, but he never really stopped to consider it.

Eventually it became a habit for Wash to see the surfer. Sometimes they'd make idle conversation. “How's the weather?” and stuff like that. Nothing riveting, but Wash enjoyed the sound of his voice. The man one day introduced himself as Lavernius Tucker, instructing Wash to just refer to him as Tucker.

“That's an... unusual name,” Wash commented, repeating his first name to himself. He was fond of the way the syllables hung on his lips.

“Oh yeah, what's your name?” Tucker asked.

“Wash,” Wash said as he was scooping out the ice cream for Tucker's order.

“And that's not a weird name?”

“I suppose it is,” Wash admitted, though it was just a nickname. He preferred not to go by his given name for reasons that that stayed between him and Carolina.

“Did your parents really name you Wash?” Tucker questioned, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

Wash didn't answer, handing Tucker his ice cream. “That'll be $7.00.”

Tucker fished some change out of his wallet, handed it to Wash and took his two cones. “Thanks. I guess I'll see you later then,” he said, forgetting his question after receiving the ice cream.

“I'd like that...” Wash whispered to himself, a soft smile on his lips.

Days went by and Tucker became routine. It wasn't just Tucker that became routine however, it was his voice and his bright blue eyes. It was his hair matted from the water. It was his wet swimming trunks that fit snugly around his hips and the water that ran down his body, which Wash had to admit was very nice. Unfortunately, what Wash could not fathom was how someone so gorgeous could be so obnoxious. He found that as their conversations became less friendly small talk and more actual conversation he got to see more of what Tucker was really like. He was brash, immature and had a way of making Wash ticked. The older man had no idea how he couldn't have picked up on it before.

“What do you mean you want to talk to Carolina?” Wash asked one day as Tucker requested her presence. “I'm perfectly able to serve you, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Tucker held up his hands in defense. “I just want to get to know her... If you know what I mean.”

Wash's expression fell. Half of him was in disbelief but the rest of him was at that point not at all surprised. Taking the discussion no further he began getting the ice cream Tucker ordered. As he exchanged the cones with Tucker the young man told him to say hi to Carolina for him. 

“Yes, I'll get right on that,” Wash responded sarcastically.

Apparently not picking up on his insincerity Tucker thanked him and left.

“What's his name?” Carolina asked him when the customer was out of earshot.

“Lavernius, but he likes to be called Tucker,” Wash answered, not taking his eyes off the departing surfer as he was still trying to wrap his head around his personality, despite it being days since he first noticed.

“What, that guy?”

“You know him?” Wash said in surprise. “He asked to see you.”

Carolina snorted. “I wouldn't talk to him if he was the last man alive, the guy's a jackass.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. He can't see one girl without objectifying her. It's ridiculous.”

“Yeah, he's a real pig,” Carolina leaned on the counter beside her brother and without warning switched gears. “So you gonna get his number?”

Wash gave Carolina a questioning look, taken off guard by the unexpected turn in conversation. “Why in the name of god would I do that?” he eventually got out. “He's completely immature and I think he's too young for me. Not to mention you just finished calling him a pig. It's pretty obvious I wouldn't go for him.”

“Yeah, but when you talk to him you seem... different,” Carolina trailed off. “I can't quite say what but you seem less... down. I mean of course you look absolutely done with his shit, but you seem more alive. Besides!” she slapped Wash on the back. “You don't have to worry about him perving on you since he only seems to do it to girls.”

“That's absolutely preposterous,” Wash said in denial to Carolina's first statement. “It's not me I'd be worried about him flirting with anyway. To answer your question again, no. I will not be asking Tucker for his number.”

“But I think it'd be good for you,” Carolina gave Wash an empathetic smile. “I think it'd be good for you to go out again.”

Wash mumbled to himself. He didn't want to ask Tucker for his number partially for what he told his sister, but also because he had convinced himself he would just be rejected. What could a young man like Tucker, so full of life, see in someone like him anyway? A tired man too young to have his hair already graying. After his and Carolina's exchange Wash found himself not only asking that question every time he saw Tucker but also asking himself why he even cared in the first place. He was pretty sure Tucker was the most aggressively heterosexual person he knew. Despite all of this, the following day the unthinkable happened.

“Here,” Tucker passed Wash a slip of paper instead of coins.

Wash took it between his fingers and examined it. “What is it?”

“My number.”

“I don't think your phone number is legal tender,” Wash replied, the reason for Tucker's actions flying completely over his head.

“I'm not giving it to you as money,” Tucker laughed, clearly amused at how clueless Wash was.

“You want me to give it to Carolina?” Wash furrowed his brows.

“No, dumbass, it's for you,” Tucker dropped some money on the counter. “And _that's_ for the ice cream.” Tucker grabbed his frozen treats from Wash's dumbfounded hands. “I hope to hear from you tonight!” Leaving Wash with barely any time to collect himself, Tucker was gone.

Wash stared blankly at the paper in his hand. He unfolded it and sure enough there was seven numbers scribbled harshly on it. He felt his chest get lighter and then immediately sink. It was probably just a fake number. It wouldn't have been the first time it happened to him. He crumpled up the slip and tossed it at his feet. He wanted to believe that it was legit, he really did, because despite Tucker's rough personality Wash found him endearing. He had by then realized Carolina was right, Tucker did make him feel a little less empty. He hated it when she was right.

Wash's eyes glanced back at the paper lying on the dirty floor when someone picked it up.

“What's this?” Carolina said as her fingers fiddled with un-crumpling it.

“It's nothing,” Wash lied.

Carolina raised her eyebrows at the digits. “Doesn't look like nothing to me.” She smiled slyly. “Was it Tucker?”

Wash averted his gaze. “It's probably just a prank.”

Carolina smiled and shook her head. “You know Wash, you're way too quick to give up on this kind of stuff.” She firmly took Wash's hands in her own, leaving behind the paper. “It doesn't hurt to try, and even if it is a fake number then you got to learn he was a dick not worth your time. 'Sides, I'll rough him up for you if need be.”

Wash took his hands back. “I don't need you to rough him up for me. I could do that myself if I wanted.” He stared at the note then let out a sigh. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to try.

Later that night as he sat on his bed he nervously dialed the number he was given. Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach he put the receiver to his ear, listening to the ringer. It rang for a solid ten seconds, the most grueling ten seconds of Wash's life, before someone picked up. With his heart racing, he mustered out a hello.

“Hello this is Astral Projection Cinemas, how may I help you?”

Instantly the butterflies died, his pulse slowed down and his shoulders fell along with his head. In a soft, disappointed tone he told the person on the other end that he had the wrong number and hung up. Yes, he was disappointed, but as he buried his face into his pillow and sighed... he couldn't really say he was surprised.

Everything went about as well as he had expected.

***

The beach. Tucker loved the beach. He loved the warm sand beneath his feet, he loved being submerged in the cool water, he loved riding his surfboard over huge waves. He enjoyed the water so much so that he didn't even mind wiping out. Yes, Tucker loved the beach immensely. The beautiful half naked women all around him also had a large role in amplifying his appreciation for it, but everybody already knew that to be honest. Tucker was a fairly easy man to figure out.

_It doesn't get any better than this,_ he thought, nodding in approval at a woman who passed by.

“Yes, I love the beach!” came the rather grating voice of his forced companion. “Come on Tucker let's go in the water!”

Tucker sighed. _Spoke too soon._

His friend gasped. “Look Tucker! They have an ice cream shop here!”

“Caboose be quiet, you'll scare away any ladies that might be interested in me,” Tucker had almost forgotten he had to take his friend Caboose along with him, per his _other_ friend's instructions. He didn't know how he could forget about someone that couldn't seem to be quiet for longer than five seconds.

“I wonder why Church didn't want to come with us...” Caboose thought out loud.

“Yeah it's a real mystery,” he said sarcastically, taking Caboose by the arm and leading him closer to the water. “Come on, let's go.” Caboose appeared to highly agree with Tucker's idea to move towards the water.

“Now, I'm gonna go surf for a bit, okay?” Tucker said as he laid out a towel for Caboose. “You try not to drown yourself.”

“But Tucker I want ice cream,” Caboose protested.

“I will get us ice cream _later_.”

“Okay! Just don't forget,” Caboose threw himself onto the towel and began running his fingers through the sand. “I will wait here for you and I will definitely not drown before you get back.”

“Okay great,” Tucker nodded, thinking of nothing else to say to Caboose he turned towards the water with his surfboard tucked under his arm. He didn't surf for all that long, since he wanted to keep the amount of time Caboose had to do something stupid to a minimum. He caught a few good waves. On the few waves that came his way that could be described as outstanding, he made doubly sure to do something impressive for any women that might have been watching him. Admittedly Tucker had picked up surfing as a way to help him with picking up chicks. He just happened to find out he enjoyed it as a hobby.

When he was done he waded out of the water and to where he had left Caboose. By the grace of god the man was still there. 

“Oh thank god Tucker you're back, I thought you had drowned,” Caboose said in relief. “If you had drowned, who would get me my ice cream?”

“You could probably get it yourself,” Tucker set his surfboard down and began ruffling through his bag for his wallet. “You're not seven.”

“Well Tucker I could have told you that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tucker rolled his eyes. “What kind of ice cream do you want?”

“Get me one chocolate scoop and one vanilla scoop!”

“Alright, one chocolate scoop and one vanilla scoop it is,” Tucker turned to start towards the ice cream shop but he stopped and pointed a finger at Caboose. “Don't you touch my surfboard while I'm gone.”

Caboose sighed. “Yes Tucker I will not touch your surfboard while you're gone.”

Feeling not completely assured Tucker went to the shop. Caboose was still in sight, but it was a a tad difficult to see him. He wanted to trust Caboose but it was just so hard when he was such a child. Of course, Tucker could have taken Caboose with him but then who would watch their shit?

When Tucker approached the counter he could see the most fiery red hair he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. To make things even better the hair sat atop the head of a beautiful young woman.

“Sup baby?” were the first words to leave Tucker's damn mouth. “You wanna try some of _my_ ice cream?” Subtly was not his specialty. This caused his advances to rarely, if ever, succeed.

As anyone would have guessed the woman was already done. She didn't need to put up with this. Throwing her hands up in the air she turned her back on Tucker.

“Wait baby, where you going?” Tucker asked her as she disappeared around a corner into the back of the shop. A middle aged man took her place. 

“Where'd the hot girl go?” Tucker asked him, trying to look past the man and to where he had last seen her.

“She wasn't feeling so great,” the man lied, keeping the customer's money in mind.

“Yeah, I get it,” Tucker nodded understandingly. “I usually make girls pretty weak in the knees.”

With a plastic smile the man asked Tucker for his order which the surfer promptly gave him. It took all of two minutes for Tucker to have his ice cream and leave. When he returned he saw Caboose running a finger down the side of his surfboard.

“What the fuck did I say Caboose?” he shouted.

Caboose jumped. “Tucker! I didn't touch your surfboard just like you said!”

Tucker heaved a sigh. It could have been worse, he convinced himself. He handed Caboose his ice cream and sat down beside him. As soon as they were done eating Caboose insisted they go into the water together. Caboose probably could have gone in by himself, but Church, said he didn't want him drowning. Tucker didn't know how he got assigned babysitter but it happened through some form of bullshit thought up by none other than Church himself. For someone that claimed to hate Caboose so much he sure spent a lot of time fretting over his safety.

Inevitably though the day was done, making Tucker and Caboose leave the wonderful beach and head on home.

“We have to go again tomorrow!” Caboose shouted happily. “I had so much fun with you today! Especially the part where you fell and hurt your ankle.”

Tucker, who was being carried on Caboose's back, groaned. “Just shut up and keep walking. We'll talk about this when we get home.” Tucker was never more thankful for Caboose's unnatural strength.

To Caboose's dismay it would be a few days before Tucker could take him back to the beach. Good old Tucker wasn't watching where he was going and tripped over a piece of driftwood. His only excuse being “But those girls were really hot!” which was something Caboose couldn't quite understand. Tucker just hoped that by the time he was able to go back, that stunning red head would be over her illness and working at the shop again.

Unfortunately Tucker didn't get what he wanted. A few days of rest and the young man was returning to the beach with Caboose trailing excitedly behind him. When he walked up to the counter of the shop he was confronted not with red hair but with a droopy looking man who didn't even notice he had a customer. 

“Excuse me,” Tucker said to get his attention.

As soon as the man saw Tucker his lips curled into a smile. “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Tucker placed his order and went no further in talking with the man, but as he was making the ice cream cones the surfer was studying his appearance. He seemed to be drained, though he hid it well in the face of customers. Nothing about him was outstanding but something was garnering Tucker's attention. Perhaps it was how the roots of his hair seemed to be turning gray. Older men did appeal to Tucker, who knew he had some sort of attraction to men (no matter how minuscule it was), but that guy didn't really seem at all middle aged. He guessed him to be in his early thirties to mid thirties. _Sort of young for graying hair,_ Tucker thought to himself. _He pulls it off well though I'll give him that._

“Sir, that'll be $7.00.” the man said in an increasingly louder tone as Tucker was lost in thought.

“Oh, right,” Tucker went for his wallet and took out some change, trading with the man. He had been a little preoccupied with admiring his features, something Tucker was used to doing with women, but not so much with men. But he did have to say while that man was pretty attractive he would much rather be seeing the red head. Despite his rare attraction for males, because of whatever reason he really did not want to hook up with one.

Or at least that's how he felt initially.

Tucker became a frequent customer at the shop for two reasons; one was because Caboose _always_ wanted ice cream and two was because he was hoping to see the hot chick again. However it was always the same tired looking man that was standing at the register. Without realizing it Tucker had begun to strike up small conversations with him. The young man was a rather outgoing person so talking was just something that came naturally to him. Though he never really talked about anything exciting, he came to realize he thoroughly enjoyed the sound of the man's voice. It was smooth and gentle on Tucker's ears. He could swear it was like a violin despite how little emotion actually went into his it.

Opening up more, Tucker one day introduced himself and learned the man's name was Wash. _What a weird fucking name,_ being the first thought on his mind and also the first thing he said. He was particular to it however; he felt it suited him. But even so, calling someone “Wash” was still alien to him and took a couple days of getting used to, even so he managed to do it. 

What Tucker didn't manage to do was notice that his and Wash's conversations were becoming lengthier. He also didn't notice that he was looking more forward to talking to Wash everyday. It was a gradual build up so it wasn't surprising for him to realize it. All he could tell was that he took great pleasure in Wash's fleeting company. He assumed Wash felt the same way, but it was coming to his attention that he seemed to be making the man more irked. He didn't mind though. Of course he would have preferred that their talks remain pleasant, but Wash just sounded so indescribably attractive (not to mention amusing) when he was annoyed that Tucker couldn't help smiling.

“Tucker,” Caboose said one day as he returned with their ice cream. “Why have you been taking so long to come back with my tasty ice cream?”

“I haven't?” Tucker said with uncertainty. “I've been taking the same amount of time everyday.”

“No you haven't,” Caboose argued. “I see you over there standing at the counter talking all the time! Are you flirting with a pretty girl again?”

“Not really,” Tucker answered, entertained by his presumption.

“Well from here it really looks like you are,” Caboose snatched his cone from Tucker's hand. “So stop flirting with the ice cream worker people before you catch a disease like Church always says you will.”

“I don't look like I'm flirting,” Tucker said in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes you really do Tucker,” Caboose insisted. “You have that same look about you like when you see a pretty girl. It's really obvious you know.”

Tucker had nothing to say. It _must_ have been obvious if Caboose could pick up on it, the guy couldn't even spell his own name.

The day after and Tucker had to see the red haired girl he had almost forgotten about. He wasn't even aware of it but thoughts of Wash had been replacing thoughts of the girl. This was completely unacceptable, since Tucker was, as previously mentioned, not partial to guys. He wasn't sure why. It may have been insecurity. Whatever the reason he needed to see the girl again. Perhaps if he remembered how hot she was he could get Wash out of his head.

“What do you mean you want to talk to Carolina?” Wash responded after Tucker asked for her. “I'm perfectly capable of serving you, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Tucker held up his hands in defense. He didn't think Wash would get so offended, so he thought of a quick excuse. “I just want to get to know her... If you know what I mean.” Which was not _really_ a lie.

Wash's expression fell noticeably before he turned around to make the ice cream cones Tucker had ordered. The surfer had no idea why Wash had gotten so upset. He was used to him being annoyed, when he talked about women especially, but it was distinctly more obvious that time. Maybe Carolina was his girlfriend.

Wash was finished getting Tucker his order, so the young man retrieved his money and gave it to him. “Well, say hi to Carolina for me.” he said as he took the ice cream.

“Yes, I'll get right on that,” Wash responded. 

Tucker felt some relief at Wash's cooperation so he thanked him and left. When he returned to Caboose he received a little backlash for taking too long, but he didn't really care at that point.

That night, while Tucker was laying in bed unable to sleep, he found himself thinking of Wash. He felt it was starting to get ridiculous, and while it was true he hadn't seen Carolina that day he really didn't think that was the problem anymore. He tried concocting some other reasons but nothing really felt plausible. He just had to face the facts; he developed a crush on Wash. He convinced himself to give the man a shot despite his disinterest in dating men.

“It couldn't hurt to try...” he thought groggily as he looked around his bedroom for a notepad to write his phone number on.

The next day after he had gotten a sufficient amount of sleep, his phone number in his bag, Tucker set out for the beach. With Caboose in tow of course. When they arrived he immediately started for the ice cream shop. Caboose asked him why he wasn't going surfing first like he usually did, to which Tucker asked him if he was complaining. Caboose hastily said no so Tucker resumed his course.

When he got to the shop he kept everything casual; he ordered his usual order and waited around for Wash to make it. He was a little too nervous to talk which frustrated him because he never felt nervous when it came to approaching people. However when Wash returned to the register with the ice cream, Tucker reached out his hand which contained the slip of paper he wrote his number on.

“Here,” Tucker gave the paper to Wash who took it between his fingers and looked it over.

“What is it?” he asked.

“My number.” Tucker answered smoothly, though his palms were beginning to sweat.

“I don't think your phone number is legal tender,” Wash said in response.

Tucker smiled in amusement at his obliviousness, his nerves easing a little. “I'm not giving it to you as money,” he laughed.

“You want me to give it to Carolina?” Wash furrowed his brows.

“No, dumbass, it's for you,” Tucker dropped some money on the counter, feeling himself quickly becoming tense again at the mention of his fleeting heterosexuality. “And _that's_ for the ice cream.” Tucker grabbed his frozen treats from Wash's dumbfounded hands. “I hope to hear from you tonight!” Leaving Wash with barely any time to collect himself, Tucker left. He knew he should have waited around for Wash's reply, but he wanted to leave before he made a fool of himself.

When Tucker returned home the the first and really only thing he did was wait to hear his phone ring. He could tell he was excited. Hell, Church could tell he was excited.

“What are you so eager for man?” Church asked him while the two of them were watching TV. “You keep looking at the phone, too.”

“None of your business,” Tucker told him. 

Church smirked. “Got a hot date huh?”

“Dude shut up, I do not.”

Church said nothing else but Tucker could still _feel_ the stupid grin on his face. He paid him no mind though and instead waited for his phone to ring. But it never happened. Tucker sat and he waited and he waited but it never happened. At least when it did none of the calls were for him. _Guess he's not interested..._ he thought downheartedly. Feeling rejected, tired and a little embarrassed, Tucker retired to his room and went to sleep. He felt there was nothing else to do.

However, when he awoke the next morning he somehow found it in himself to ask Wash why he didn't call. At least an explanation would be nice.

***

Wash went to work the next day with a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hoped to god Tucker wouldn't come around and make fun of him. He waited anxiously behind the cash register for what he knew was going to happen, no matter how much he wished it wouldn't. Then he saw that familiar dark skin and those unmistakable blue eyes approaching the shop. He sighed.

“Hey,” Tucker greeted in a small voice.

“Hey, what can I get for you?”

Tucker didn't say anything at first, and he seemed to shift on his feet a little. “I was just wondering why you didn't call me last night.”

Wash tilted his head in bewilderment. “But I did?”

“You did?” Tucker asked, equally as confused. 

“I did,” Wash assured him, reciting out his phone number.

Tucker's face was that of surprise. He leaned on the counter in front of him and covered up his face, mumbling something to himself.

“What's wrong?” Wash asked flatly.

“I gave you the wrong number,” Tucker confessed. “I messed up, I messed up. Do you have some paper and a pen I can borrow?”

Wash, still muddled, fumbled around the shop for the requested items. When he found them he placed them in front of Tucker who hastily wrote down another phone number.

“ _This_ is my phone number,” he said, turning the paper around so Wash could see it. He didn't notice at first, but the number was in fact different. By one digit. He messed up by one digit. A smile crept up on Wash's lips and before he knew it he could feel himself laughing, causing Tucker to join him.

When the two of them were done with their bout of laughter, Tucker asked him if he would call.

“Of course.”

After all, he had never felt so alive in a long time.


End file.
